


Dod Kalm

by 30xf



Series: 201 Days Of X Files [43]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30xf/pseuds/30xf





	Dod Kalm

I had waited until Scully was out of the room to make my way to the bathroom. Despite the fact that I almost died, the sight of me using a walker never fails to amuse her. To be fair, I'd most likely find it just as amusing if her mobility was as affected as mine, but her body is recovering much faster. 

"I haven't seen shuffling like that since the last time we played cards," comes her voice from behind me as I make my way back to my bed. I'm glad I had grabbed my robe at the last second; these hospital gowns do nothing for my modesty.

"That was a rather weak attempt at a joke," I sigh as I sit down. Despite the lameness of Scully's humour, I can't keep the grin from my face.

"I know. I'm running out," she admits, sitting opposite me on her own bed. "You're gonna have to lose that thing soon."

She hands me the other half of the popsicle she's eating, knowing my level of thirst is still way above normal. "I'm sorry my physical disability is hindering your comedic stylings," I tell her, still smiling in spite of myself.

She shrugs, the only remaining outward signs of her rapid aging being a few wrinkles left around her eyes and mouth. "I just need to work on my material," she says, devoting much of her attention to her popsicle. She's been taken off of her IV, but is still requiring more fluids than usual.

"Your material is just fine. It was better than my Oil of Olay joke the other day," I admit.

Scully stops and looks up at that. "That one was just mean," she informs me, though her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I'll tell you one thing though," she pulls the remainder of the popsicle off the stick with her teeth and shoves it to one side of her mouth. "I'm definitely going to moisturize more from now on," she says, tossing the stick onto the table between our beds.

"I don't think that was exactly an accurate representation of how we're going to age, Scully." I'm nearly done my half of the popsicle already. "God, I hope not, anyways."

"You look like you can use some rest," she says, making herself comfortable on her bed. Her relative outward health makes it hard for her to admit she's not feeling quite herself yet, evidenced by the fact that she falls asleep nearly as often as I do.

"You're probably right," I admit, setting my popsicle stick near hers. I lie on the bed under the covers, and just as I'm closing my eyes a thought occurs to me. "Scully, are you still gonna laugh at me when I'm eighty and trying to keep my gun steady while I try to hold a flashlight and use my walker?" 

I look over to her, but her eyes are already closed. It is a long moment before she sighs, "Yes, probably. But we'll attach the flashlight to your walker...like a headlight. Save a lot of trouble." She doesn't smile, partly because she's so close to sleep, and partly because she might be serious.

I look at her until I can't keep my eyes open any longer, and then I sleep.


End file.
